


Adventures of Stiles and the Weregeeks

by metwithdarkness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, also like feel free to interpret Derek and Stiles however you want, mentions of Scott - Freeform, this is just really short okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:09:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metwithdarkness/pseuds/metwithdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Super strength and super senses don't necessarily negate super nerdiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swing Set in December (swing_set13)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/gifts).



> Someone just shoot me now okay
> 
> From a tumblr thing swingsetindecember had going on

Stiles burst into the loft hard enough to slam the heavy door against the wall, ricocheting it closed behind him as he stripped off his backpack and hoodie. The backpack flew in one direction, the hoodie in the other, and Stiles collapsed heavily onto the ratty couch, head hanging off one arm and leg bouncing off the other.

“Can you believe him?” he called out, eyes on the ceiling. “The _prequels_. I told him to watch Star Wars and he watches the _prequels_.”

The loft remained silent, and Stiles stopped moving his leg to cock an ear. When nothing answered him, he scrunched his shoulders in a shrug and starting kicking his leg against the couch again, pulling out a pair of pencils to tap out an accompanying drum rhythm. After another few moments, he heard the unmistakable sound of someone moving upstairs, and he paused as Derek’s scowling face looked down at him through the top of the staircase.

“If you’re going to be drumming,” the werewolf said, “could you pick something a little less distracting than Rush?”

Stiles grinned at him. “Nerd.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamnit.

“I don’t really understand why you feel the need to invade my loft,” Derek says mildly, blank face turned down towards the pile of dvds in Stiles’ arms. He hadn’t even given the kid a key, and yet here they are. Again. Damn it.

“Okay, yeah, valid point, except _maybe I like hanging out with you and my dad thinks it’s weird when you’re over_. You know, with the whole exonerated-murder-suspect thing, and, oh, the fact that you’re a lot older, and-”

Derek releases a heavily put-upon sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Stiles, I get it, just shut up already.”

Stiles just grins and flops onto the couch, sending up a cloud of dust that set him to hacking. Derek watches him with a scowl until he finally stops coughing long enough to say, “Look, I’m not saying I think it’s bad that you guys are all werenerds or whatever-”

“Damnit, Stiles, I’m a werewolf, not a-”

“ _That is exactly what I mean_ ,” Stiles replies, not missing a beat. “I mean, sure, Scott was into his own thing and I was into mine, but he gets bit, he gets super powers, and _bam!_ ” Derek _absolutely did not_ flinch at Stiles’ shout. “Suddenly he’s watching Star Trek reruns. It’s all a little-” Stiles’ arms flail around, flinging his dvds to the floor to illustrate his point, and he makes this small, disappointed sigh that is _not even a little bit_ why Derek bends down to pick them up, occasionally dodging an arm as Stiles continues, saying “It’s all just very… very _suspect_.”

Derek stares for long enough that Stiles eventually looks down at him, face still broadcasting his evident suspicion and hands finally stilled, held out to the sides awkwardly. “Suspect,” Derek repeats flatly, and Stiles narrows his eyes.

“Let me tell you, Mr Wolf, I know my bro and my bro is not geeky like this, alright?”

For a long moment, Derek just levels a glare at the teen, and Stiles returns it wholeheartedly if not particularly intimidatingly. “Fine,” Derek says at last, throwing up his hands and almost smacking Stiles in the nose with the case of - what is that, _Galaxy Quest_? He may have to rethink kicking the kid out. “Fine. You caught me. We all turn into weregeeks on the full moon. We howl at old Enterprise posters and practice our control of the Force.”

He regrets saying this immediately when Stiles all but crows, “ _I knew it_!” The kid’s eyes are glittering with triumph and Derek rolls his own, shoving the dvds into Stiles’ unresisting hands.

“So can you, I dunno, leave now? I’m busy.”

Derek gets a disparaging look, and Stiles tells him, “Working out is not _busy_ , Derek. We’re going to watch some movies together, because apparently there’s a whole side to you assholes I haven’t known about until now and I am going to exploit the hell out of it. First,” he adds, whipping up the copy of _Galaxy Quest_ to shove into Derek’s face, “this. And then maybe, if you don’t turn or anything in the middle of it, we can watch _Spaceballs_.”

Derek sighs, resigns himself to the farce that is his life, and slinks onto the couch next to Stiles.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just keep writing more make it stop jfc

Derek is almost ready when Stiles bursts into the loft again - _almost_ , but not quite, and he’s glad he was - he was - well, okay, yeah, he was brooding, so sue him, upstairs, because the little jump he gives is not at all impressive. He listens as Stiles drops his backpack and seems to launch his shoes at the walls - jesus, did someone bite the damn kid while Derek wasn’t looking? No human can throw shoes at a wall with that much force, he’s sure of it, but when he lifts his nose and sniffs, there’s no wolfy smell to the boy, just the regular sweat and other unmentionables.

For a long moment, Stiles is silent downstairs, not even kicking his leg against the couch the way he usually does (and every single damn time the kid is over, Derek grudgingly moves the couch back the several inches he manages to kick it), so Derek slowly relaxes back into his book, losing himself in the world of Jules Verne. So it's _totally not his fault_ that Stiles suddenly standing at the foot of the couch he's on startles him enough that the book flies across the room and he can feel his fangs biting into his lip, drawing blood.

 

"Woah, dude, sorry, I thought you knew I was here," Stiles says, all seriousness, but Derek glares at the upwards slant of the boy's mouth.

 

"What do you want, Stiles?" he asks, and it comes out a little mangled around his fangs. He frowns as Stiles works at holding in his laughter.

 

"Just, usually when I come over, you come down to growl at me and tell me to leave, so I was wondering what you were up to up here," Stiles replies, but his attention has switched from Derek to the wall-to-wall bookshelves that surround the room. "Woah, dude, I never knew you had a library up here," the teen says, and Derek searches for any hint of derision in his voice, but all he can find is awe. He sighs, stands, and pads over to where his book sits on the ground, pages scrunched up underneath it.

 

As he's picking it up, he feels Stiles' breath on his elbow, and he glares at the teen. "What?"

 

"Never pegged you for a classics sort of guy, is all," Stiles tells him, almost joking but not quite, and Derek frowns down at the book.

 

"It was..." he starts, quiet, and Stiles watches him expectantly, face open. "It was Laura's favourite. After the - she used to talk about going all the way around the world," he finishes, and only just keeps himself from flinching at how lame he sounds.

 

Stiles is giving him a small, private smile though, something sweet and a little sad. "My mom used to plan expeditions to the middle of the earth," he says, and the two of them remain silent for several long moments. "Come on, Wolfman, let's go watch some crappy tv and forget we ever had feelings," Stiles says, voice gruff and, Derek assumes, meant to be imitating his own (badly) before tugging him over to the stairs and shoving him down them first. When Derek looks up at him, Stiles is giving the room one last look around, mouth smiling and eyes a little sad, before shaking his head and following Derek down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lionofphrygia on tumblr if you care to pop by and say hellooo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where I'm going with this and somebody has got to stop me before I go too far

“Do you guys go through a heat?”

Derek sighs, holds his phone away from his face to squint at the time, and sighs again, louder. “What.”

“Or, wait, you’d probably call it pon farr instead, right?”

He looks at the time again. It’s too early for this shit. “Stiles, it’s too early for this shit.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then, “Wait, what time is it?”

“Three forty-two.”

“SHIT.”

Derek stares down at his phone, which blinks innocently back up at him with the end of Stiles’ call, and huffs.

 

“So you never answered my question,” Stiles says from where he’s sprawled inelegantly on Derek’s couch.

Derek very carefully places his bags of groceries on the counter and then says, “Why the hell are you in my loft again.”

Stiles brushes him off, bounding up from the couch and rapidly putting everything Derek just brought back away in the cupboards, leaving Derek to self-consciously grab at the bag that has his chocolate cakes in it and shoving them into the pocket of his jacket. “You never answered my question last night, or, I mean, I guess it was this morning? But it doesn’t really count as morning til you’ve fallen asleep and woken up again, and anyways-”

“Oh my god,” Derek mutters, and smacks a hand over Stiles’ mouth. The teen recoils, shocked, and Derek has to grab his elbow to keep him from hitting the floor.

“Hey, rude.”

“We do not go through pon farr, dumbass, we have regular sex like regular people,” Derek says instead of apologizing, and Stiles gives him a suspicious look, amber eyes narrowed.

“Are you sure about that? Maybe you just haven’t had yours yet. What if it’s a thing and you just haven’t had it yet?” he asks, all in one breath, while at the same time peeling Derek’s cakes out of their wrapper and stuffing one into his mouth. He throws the other one at Derek, who catches it and stares at it, then at his pocket, and then at Stiles.

“I’m pretty sure I would have noticed my parents going through something like that,” he says dryly, surreptitiously checking his pockets. Keys, wallet, phone. So it was only the cakes.

Stiles opens his mouth to argue, evidently thinks better of it, and hums, eyebrows drawing together in a thoughtful frown. He’s silent for a long moment, staring off into space, and then he gives Derek an assessing look.

“Whatever it is, no,” Derek tells him, backing away.

“For _science_ , Derek, don’t you care about science?” the teen hisses, advancing on him, and Derek backs himself into a corner in the little kitchenette.

“Absolutely not.”

“But, c’mon! Like, it could totally be a thing, and they just - they hid it really well! We should experiment! For science!”

“No.”

“ _Dereeeeeek_.”

“If I give you this cake, will you shut up?”

Stiles takes the cake, stuffs it in his mouth, chews, swallows, and says, “Nope, I won’t. You’re stuck with me.”


End file.
